Amid the Fire
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: Adrian Pucey never got the chance to tell him, and when he's almost fatally killed during the Battle of Hogwarts, he flies in and saves him, setting fire to his opponent's cloak and whisking him away. Later that night, Marcus Flint decides to unmask his hero, but he isn't inclined to believe someone who was believed to be dead was behind the heroic act of bravery. AU; Romance


**House:** Slytherin

 **Category:** Short

 **Prompts** : [Spell] Lacarnum Inflamarae; [Speech] "I never did get around to saying thank you, did I?"; [Word] Halo

 **Word count: 1927** (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)

 **Warning:** This is an AU (Alternate Universe) piece where Marcus Flint is on the Light's side of the war. There is mild language in this piece. You've been warned.

 **Characters:** Adrian Pucey; Marcus Flint

 **Timeline: 1998-? (Sometime during the Battle of Hogwarts).**

 **Summary:** Adrian Pucey never got the chance to tell him, and when he's almost fatally killed during the Battle of Hogwarts, he flies in and saves him, setting fire to his opponent's cloak and whisking him away. Later that night, Marcus Flint decides to unmask his hero, but he isn't inclined to believe someone who was believed to be dead was behind the heroic act of bravery, nor the sins that followed his disappearance during their sixth year.

 **Author's Note:** This is my very first time exploring this pairing. I didn't want to do anything too risqué for my first attempt, lol. Though… I think I managed to forge an interesting storyline. Let me know what you think of it, please. I would love to know what y'all think and if I should continue it :)

 _As always, enjoy_

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

 **Amid the Fire**

* * *

" _Lacarnum Inflamarae!"_

The spell lit up his face, sending millions of tiny balls of fire scattering in its wake. Pulling back from his captor, Marcus Flint got a glimpse of a glowing halo of dark-brown hair framing tragically blue eyes, which were uncharacteristically filled with rage. He'd been fighting, pressing against the small platoon of Death Eaters he'd seen coming from the Forest when his savior appeared. As the scene around him broke out in a victorious wildfire of hexes and spells, Marcus was swept away by a silver knight. One of their arms wrapped securely around his torso, hoisting him up onto his broomstick before they made a quick escape, heading to the Forbidden Forest, which had fortunately been spared from the fire that his masked hero had cast.

Marcus looked over his shoulder, watching as the spell ignited the robe of his attacker. Everything was quick. The Death Eater went up in a glorious display of flames, his body contorting as his screams echoed all around them. Obviously, the spell was meant to cause deadly harm. Then, Marcus looked ahead. He didn't want to think about what lay behind him now. The only thing he seemed to focus on was the muscular figure guiding them through the air, the wind whipping around them as they flew away. The horrendous screams of the battle was muffled out by the belting air. Moving his arms more securely around his savior's torso, Marcus leaned his face into his back and closed his eyes, dreaming of a world not burning down in a halo of fire.

They didn't fly far before Marcus felt the broom dip lower, finally finding coverage in the canopy. As Marcus looked around, he took notice of the deathly calm atmosphere. It was as if there had been no struggle, no sign of destruction. Wincing from the pain in his leg, he dropped his arms from the body in front of him. The ambient air was still, deceptive. If there had been a struggle, he wouldn't have known. Everything was just so tranquil, despite the feeling of knowing the loss of one of his own.

"We're here," he said calmly. Marcus flinched at the unfamiliar sound escaping the small barrier of his mind, sensing as his companion got off the broom and turned to help him. "Open your eyes." It was not a command, but a plea, and when he did, he was met with another arresting vision, one that was too good to be true.

Adrian Pucey was presumed to be dead. Yet, he was standing right there in front of him, without a care in the world, his frame shining as bright as a golden spectrum out of Heaven. Droplets of sweat and blood dotted his temple and his eyes were blood-red, as if he hadn't slept well during the last few nights; there was a deep cut to his upper arm, a bandage around his left ankle, and when Marcus squinted, he could see the telltale signs that his spell from earlier had almost ended his life instead of his opponent's life. But, that wasn't why he was so startled. It was the mere fact that the man was _alive_ that made Marcus want to flinch, to run away- anything to get the hell away from him. He'd presumed the role of the dead; it was like he was talking to one, too. Marcus' heart palpitated against his ribcage. He balled up his hands in anger.

Marcus quickly backed away, stumbling as he did. He fell onto a pile of debris and hissed, his leg unable to bear the weight of his body. Before he could do anything, Adrian was there, tending to the wound he'd sustained sometime during his fight with the unknown assailant. He wanted to watch him, and he did. His mind begged him to run, to flee. But, there was something soothing about the way Adrian's fingers ran over his leg, meticulously checking his vitals . His warm touch calmed the sting of his wound and put his mind to rest.

"What are you doing here," he asked him, pulling away from his adroit hands. Marcus bit his lip to suppress a deep moan. "You shouldn't be here."

Adrian looked up from his mending and quirked an eyebrow. "A ' _thank you'_ should suffice. I _did_ save your life back there, Flint."

"That is _not_ what I mean," he hissed. "I mean, what are you doing here? _Alive._ "

It was Adrian's turn to look puzzled. He quickly looked up, catching his inquisitive stare before dropping his gaze and busying himself with ripping his robe apart into tiny, manageable pieces. It was then that Marcus realized the sort of control he'd had back there with the spell, or lack thereof. The hem of his robe had been burned completely, as were patches of of his long-sleeved oxford. He was a fallen wreck, yet Marcus found beauty in the glowing halo of his bloodied frame. Searing embarrassment befell him, and he quickly looked away lest Adrian saw his face.

"That's not important."

"What?" Marcus shook his head, ignoring the shot of pain going up his leg. "So, that's how it's going to be?" Marcus could feel his blood boil. His eyes darted around, gauging his surroundings. Were they still in the Forbidden Forest? They hadn't flown that far, had they? "After all this time, you're not going to talk to me, is that it?" He looked back at him.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Won't understand, or won't _believe_ ," he countered angrily. Marcus let out a frustrated hiss, running his fingers through his hair before looked disdainfully at Adrian."You disappeared without a trace last year. I thought you were _dead._ W-we thought we would never see you again, that we were too late. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about this." Adrian abruptly stood. He'd finished and there was nothing left to do but to wait. "You need to rest. While you do, I'll place some protection charms around us and once I'm done...then we'll talk. For now, just sit back and close your eyes."

Marcus' heart only pinched at the sight of him. He looked torn, defeated. His eyes didn't quite meet his and he stared blankly out toward the glowing embers of the battle before shaking his head and stalking away. If Marcus had been told that this madness would end tonight, he would've laughed right in their face and stalked away to prove them wrong. Or, that he'd see a friend that he once thought was dead appear before his eyes, alive and well, he would've downright ended their argument in a fit of anger. Yet, as he sat there, wasting away, he found a disturbing soft glow emanating from Hogwarts' grounds. Somewhere, their tyrant ruler would meet his fall. And, Marcus wasn't going to do a damn thing to save him.

It seemed so far away. Lost in another time, where they were left to pay witness to the destruction of humanity from afar, never leaving their small little space. Instead of answering him, Adrian had finished the bandage he was working on and set about getting their camp ready for the night, leaving more questions than answers. Marcus watched with fearful eyes. Wherever they were, it was not safe and they'd have to wait it out until morning. Though, it didn't pacify him in any sense. It only solidified his fear.

Once the battle scene commenced to an end, Marcus had enough time to reflect. He knew there would be consequences and sacrifices, but that didn't scare him. In fact, Marcus felt liberated to be fighting for a cause that he believed in, but it was hard to see the one he loved fighting on the other side of the battle. For the longest time, Adrian had been his. His everything, his life, his reason to breathe. But, he hadn't the chance to tell him…

...until now.

Marcus was a fool.

Throwing his arm over his eyes, he let whatever sedative Adrian gave him to run its course. It wasn't until hours later that he was met with the stoic embers of a warm fire. His friend had done some amazing work to ensure his safety, but Marcus wasn't going to let him off that easy. He sat up, grateful for the treatment.

"Looks like your wound is healing up nicely." Adrian sat beside him, evaluating his work.

"What did you put on it?"

Adrian shrugged. "Nothing too complex. It wasn't that bad of a burn, anyway."

"What made you think that spell would release its hold on me?" Marcus asked.

"When something is on fire," he began with a grin, "watch them burn with the conflagration. I had to distract him long enough to escape with you. It worked, did it not?"

"You could have died,"

"Yeah, well, they say fire washes away sin." Adrian murmured, poking at the embers with a stick. "People do a lot of stupid things when they're blinded by love."

This gave Marcus a lot to think about. He was silent for several long minutes, before he dared to look at the boy beside him. He appeared so helpless in the flickering light of the fire; though, his ethereal glow was still there.

"I never did get around to saying thank you, did I?" Marcus leaned his head against the tree supporting him and sighed. "You saved my life back there, Pucey. I can't thank you enough."

"They say confession is good for the soul," Adrian chuckled.

"I'm not talking about back there, either."

"I didn't do anything, really."

"You did everything."

"Come on, Flint. Don't play stupid." An adorable little crease appeared between Adrian's brows. He ran his fingers distractingly through his hair. He was searching for the right words, and when he did, he turned to Marcus and said," I wasn't meant to do anything. Hell, I don't think I'm capable of anything worthwhile. Why did you have to care? Out of all our friends, why did it have to be you?"

"It wasn't easy." Marcus confessed to him breathlessly. He hoped he'd see it how he did, that he saved him because there was still good in him. Whether the Dark Lord won, or the Light did, he wanted Adrian to know he'd love him whatever the result. That wasn't going to change. But, he needed to know where he'd been all this time. Not knowing was killing him.

"And, do you think it is now, or ever will be?" He passionately argued, reading too much into his friend's words. He shook his head. "Nothing is easy, even love. Protecting you is all I'm good at, and I'm sorry I made you feel like I'd deserted you. I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing, that I was on the wrong side of this fight."

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do," he breathed. "But, sometimes, one has to trust themselves first before putting their trust in others."

Marcus only stared at him because silence was his only companion.

"Until I learn, you can thank me all you want." Adrian said to him, looking into the embers. His face lit up again, but this time, all Marcus could seem to focus on was the dried blood on his temples and the distant look in his eyes. "My sins can't be forgiven that easily, and I don't expect you to do so without knowing what I've done."


End file.
